


W Headcanons

by bapplejack



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bapplejack/pseuds/bapplejack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewatching KRW with some friends, and my silly imagination is just filling my head with fluffy headcanons that I wanted to explore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	W Headcanons

**Based on episode 23.**

 

_Ooniki Ichirouta has a tendency to pick people on the right side wearing red._

_..._ _Eh!?_ It may have been Philip that was waving the red handkerchief, but it was  _Shotaro_ that was wearing the noticeably solid red dress shirt. 

 

\---

 

Shotaro had still been sleeping in the bed in the wall when he felt something  _hovering_ over him. He had assumed it was  _Akiko_  being a pain in the ass, but when he tried to ignore it and half-expected to get smacked in the head with the green slipper--nothing happened. Feeling too uneasy to lull himself back to sleep, his eyes blinked open and he turned to the bed opening, the warm sheets rustling under his body. 

 

"Ack--!" He choked on his yawn as he jumped back against the wall, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. "Philip--What're you doing!?" He scowled. 

 

The younger man had been the one standing over his unconscious body, just patiently watching and waiting for him to wake up. In one of his hands was a hanger with a buttoned up red shirt on it. "You need to wear this today."

 

Shotaro rubbed his eyes, still not completely awake and a little confused by the request. "What're you talking about?"

 

Philip shoved the red shirt closer to the older man, who held up his hands in surprise. "Just wear it."

 

"Why!?" He pushed the shirt away.  _This was weird, even for Philip_.

 

"I like it when you wear this shirt. It looks nice on you."

 

"...Huh?" Shotaro blinked, not completely understanding the statement. Or rather, he was thinking  _No, I couldn't have heard that right._

 

"I want you to wear it because I think you look nice in it, and that makes me happy." Philip reiterated, not entirely sure how he could break it down anymore. He held out the shirt again, in a less forceful manner.

 

The detective took it slowly, still not completely comprehending the situation.  _Why did his face feel hot? Was he blushing?_ "Fine, I'll wear the shirt." He mumbled, while wearing an embarrassed frown that he tried to cover up by rubbing his face. Satisfied with that answer, the younger man walked off--probably back into the basement.

 

\---

 

Much to Shotaro's surprise, Philip had decided to come with them to the idol show. And now, while he was being dragged onto the stage by his partner, he understood why. On top of feeling slightly mortified at having to perform in this stupid singing contest, he felt a little... hurt. _  
_

 

_Damn it._

 

\---

 

When they returned to the agency later and Shotaro knew it was just them in the small home, he eventually gathered the nerve to mention it to Philip. His shoes tapped against the metal floor as he entered the garage, and he slowly approached the younger man, who was currently doing some research on their current case. The palms of his hands felt sweaty, and he wondered if he  _really_ wanted to do this. But it had been bothering him all day, and he felt as obsessive as Philip usually was. At this rate, it was going to drive him crazy. 

 

He crossed his arms and rested against the wall closest to the whiteboard, pausing for a moment before  _finally_  saying: "...You could've just told me the truth."

 

The squeaking of the marker continued, but his partner's muttering paused when he responded. "I don't remember lying to you."

 

"If you wanted to perform on Fuutic Idol, you should've just said so." Shotaro explained, already feeling embarrassed.  _This was the opposite of being hard-boiled._

 

"You wouldn't have wanted to. I thought it'd be easier to just bring you onto the stage with me."

 

Feeling frustrated that he couldn't go about this in a  _roundabout way_ , he let out a grumble and ran a hand through his hair. " _I meant_ , instead of telling me to wear the red shirt because you liked it, you could've just said you wanted to increase your chances of getting onto the show. Besides, I wouldn't have griped  _that_ much if you really wanted to." Sho mumbled the last part of the sentence, already feeling like he said too much. "I know how you get when you obsess over something..."

 

At his words, Philip's hand stopped writing, and he turned towards Shotaro. "I do like it when you wear red. I wasn't lying." His eyes met his other half's, who seemed surprised by the statement. "And I wasn't obsessed about karaoke." He turned back to the board and continued writing. "I just wanted to sing with you."

 

As the words sunk in, Shotaro slowly felt less and less embarrassed and more like a complete jerk. Because of those villains after him, it's not like he could go out as freely as they could. But... he didn't know that the younger man could be so  _sentimental_. 

 

"...Why me?" He felt like Akiko would've enjoyed singing and being at the center of everyone's attention more.

 

"Who else would it be?" 

 

...And then Sho was back to feeling embarrassed. "Don't say things like that so easily, geez..." The detective rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. After a moment of silence, he walked closer to the other man and placed a hand on his shoulder. "...I had fun though, partner. We should do it again."

 

Philip didn't turn around or stop his writing--but a faint smile quirked on his face. "I'd like that." 

 

The older man started to walk away, but stopped when he heard his other half speak up.

 

"Just so you know, red looks nice on you, but I think blue looks better."

 

...Sho didn't say anything, as his throat seemed to swell up at that moment but he also stopped his walking. His brain was scrambling for words, but all he could focus on was his sweaty hands and how hot he felt. "Don't make fun of me like that." He said quickly, before hurrying back to the other room.

 

He went straight to his closet to make sure he had a clean blue shirt for tomorrow.


End file.
